The Kidney My Mother Stole

It took two lifetimes to realize my mother's obsession with her brother was terminal. There was no cure for her brand of madness.

She drained our family dry just to ensure my uncle lived in luxury. Every drop of our blood was a sacrifice on the altar of his happiness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of my high school entrance exams. My brainwashed mother was already at it, putting on her best performance of maternal guilt.

"Your Uncle Terrence has always been good to you, Ruby," she pleaded, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. "If you don't donate your kidney to him, you're heartless. You'd be the one killing him."

"Your blood types are a perfect match, and the tests were a success. It's fate, Ruby!" My mother, Cynthia, wouldn't stop talking. Her spit actually landed in my bowl of grits.

I stared at the food, feeling a wave of pure disgust. I didn't just hate the mess; I hated the woman sitting across from me.

In my past life, she used this exact same broken record. She whispered in my ear about how much Uncle Terrence loved me and how a missing kidney wouldn't change my life.

I was young and desperate for her love, so I agreed. That one choice turned my life into a decades-long tragedy.

I grew up in a dying coal town in the mountains, a place where hope went to die. My father, Hank, worked double shifts at the mill until his bones creaked.

My Nana never sat down, spending her days sewing piecework for pennies just to keep us afloat. My older brother, Silas, even dropped out of school to work the fields.

Despite all that effort, we were the poorest family in the county. I was sixteen years old and could count the number of times I'd eaten a real steak on one hand.

All because my mother was a parasitic enabler for her brother. In her mind, Terrence's family was struggling, and we had to starve so they could feast.

"Ruby, honey, I know you want to do the right thing," she said, reaching out to stroke my hair. "After the surgery, I'll make you a big pot of beef stew with all the trimmings."

She kissed my forehead with a tenderness she usually reserved only for Terrence's daughter, Mabel. It was a calculated bribe, and the old me would have fallen for it.

In that past life, I let her manipulate me into signing the donor papers. Two months later, they wheeled me into an OR and cut a piece of me out.

"Mom, the tests showed that both you and Mabel were matches too," I said, my voice cold. "Why didn't either of you step up?"

She flinched, her eyes darting around the kitchen. She wasn't used to me talking back, but she recovered quickly.

"I'm nearly fifty, Ruby. My health isn't what it used to be. If I went under the knife, I might never wake up. You wouldn't want to lose your mother, would you?"

She didn't wait for an answer before moving on to her favorite subject. "And Mabel... she lost her mother when she was just a baby. I couldn't bear to see her suffer."

"You've always been the strong one, Ruby. A young, healthy girl like you will bounce back in no time. I've asked aroundDyou only need one kidney to live a perfectly normal life."

"I promise, once it's over, I'll stay by your side and nurse you back to health personally," she cooed.

I had been raised by Nana while Cynthia spent all her time at Terrence's house, playing surrogate mother to Mabel. I was starved for her attention.

That promise of personal care was the bait that hooked me last time. But I remembered the reality of that surgery.

After the operation, she spent every waking second fussing over Uncle Terrence. I couldn't even get a glass of water when my throat felt like it was filled with glass.

When we were discharged, she was worried the car ride would hurt Terrence's incision. She made him lie down in the back of Dad's old truck.

Then, she forced meDfresh out of major surgeryDto walk three miles home on a dirt road. I developed chronic pain that never left me. Every step I took for the rest of my life was a reminder of her betrayal.

Thinking about it made my blood boil. I slammed my fork onto the table, the clatter echoing through the small kitchen.

"Mom, you've got it all wrong. Look at meDI'm skin and bones. I'm not nearly as sturdy as you are."

I leaned back, staring her down. "Just last week, you were out in Terrence's field hauling fifty-pound sacks of corn. You carried two at a time. Even Dad was impressed."

"Besides, Mabel is his actual daughter. What kind of daughter lets her cousin give up an organ while she sits around doing nothing? People will talk, Mom. It looks bad."

Cynthia opened her mouth to argue, but I didn't give her the chance. I used her own logic against her.

"Mom, it's settled then. You should go to the clinic tomorrow and sign the papers yourself. You're the hero he needs."

Before she could process what I'd said, I bolted out the door and ran straight to Uncle Terrence's house.

My mother was raised in a family that worshipped men. My grandmother had drilled it into her head that her brother was her only real family and her only purpose was to serve him.

She had spent her whole life practicing that toxic philosophy. When Terrence was diagnosed with kidney failure, she acted like the world was ending.

She had wailed and screamed until every member of our family went to get tested for a match. When I saw Terrence, I put on my best mask of concern.

"Uncle Terrence, we're so glad Mom is such a match!" I said breathlessly. "She's so brave for wanting to save you."

Terrence looked at me, a flicker of greed in his eyes. "She's a good sister. But is she too old? Will her body hold up?"

"You know how she is, Uncle. If anything happened to you, she'd probably just die of grief anyway. It's better this way. Let her do this for you."

Terrence went quiet, thinking it over. He was probably remembering how my mother had practically forced my dad to marry her just so she could get a dowry to pay for Terrence's wedding.

The next day, Mabel showed up at our house with a huge, fake smile on her face.

"Aunt Cynthia! Thank you so much for saving my daddy! When you're old, I'm going to take care of you like you're my own mother!"

Mabel didn't wait for Cynthia to protest. She grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the truck.

I watched the truck disappear down the road, the black exhaust filling the air. For the first time in two lives, I felt like I could finally breathe.

My brother, Silas, walked up behind me and squeezed my shoulder. "Good move, kid."

"About time someone stood up to her," he muttered.

Looking at Silas now, he was full of life and potential. He was seventeen, tall, and had eyes that still held onto his dreams.

He was a world away from the broken man I remembered from the futureDthe man who spent his days scrubbing floors in a roadside motel, bowing his head to everyone.

Years from now, my dad was supposed to retire from the mill. According to the union rules, he could pass his steady, well-paying job down to his son.

But Terrence had a son, Leo, who was the same age as Silas. Leo was a lazy, good-for-nothing parasite who spent his days drinking and getting into trouble.

My mother decided that Leo needed the job more than Silas. She thought Silas was "sturdy" enough to figure something else out.

She secretly forged the paperwork, putting Leo's name on the application. When she got caught, she fell to her knees and begged Silas to let it go.

"Your uncle is struggling! He has a son who's heading down a dark path! Just help your family out this once!" she had screamed.

Silas, with tears in his eyes, had agreed to step aside. But it didn't end there.

Later, Leo caused a fatal accident at the mill because he was high on the job. My mother told the police she saw Silas near the machinery that night.

She framed her own son to save her nephew. Silas spent ten years in prison. When he got out, his record was stained, and no one would hire him but that dingy motel.

"Ruby, Mom's gone for the day. Why don't you go fry up that bacon I bought? Let's actually have a decent meal," Silas said, handing me a package of meat.

Cynthia usually intercepted any good food we had and walked it over to Terrence's house. If we ate a chicken without her permission, she'd burn the house down with her screaming.

We had to sneak around just to eat meat in our own home. Our kitchen was ancient, with a wood-burning stove that felt like it belonged in the nineteenth century.

When the county offered grants for gas stoves, my mother took our family savings and gave them to Terrence so he could renovate his kitchen.

"Terrence is a man living alone with a daughter. Cooking is hard for him. He needs the convenience more than we do," she'd said.

Dad had been so furious he threatened to pack his bags. But she cried and made a scene for two weeks until he finally gave in. He always gave in.

I started the fire in the stove, coughing as the smoke billowed out. It was a miserable way to cook.

"That smoke is going to ruin your skin, Ruby. A pretty girl shouldn't be doing this," Nana said, walking in and ushering me away.

She was eighty years old and her bones were brittle, but she never stopped working because my mother was too busy being a servant for her brother.

I tried to take the knife to help her chop the vegetables. "Let me help, Nana. You should rest."

"Get out of here before you cut a finger off," she grumbled, though her eyes were kind. She chased me out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon.

She was always tough on the outside, but she was the only one who truly cared. I used to resent her because of the lies my mother told.

Cynthia told me Nana hated girls and that she refused to buy me milk when I was a baby, which was why I was always sickly.

Later, I found out the truth. Nana had walked miles every day to beg neighbors for goat milk to keep me alive.

My mother had refused to nurse me because Terrence's wife had died during labor. Mabel was a hungry infant, and Cynthia decided Mabel's needs were more important than mine.

I sat on the porch with Silas, helping him weave baskets. It was how Nana made extra money at the local farmer's market.

We worked in silence under the afternoon sun, the smell of frying bacon wafting through the screen door.

"Silas! Ruby! Wash up! Dinner's ready!" Nana called out.

We practically inhaled the food. The bacon and greens tasted better than any five-star meal I could imagine.

"Slow down, you'll choke," Nana said, patting our heads.

I realized then that I had spent years avoiding Nana because of my mother's lies. After my surgery in the past life, Nana was the only one who tried to help me, even though she could barely walk herself.

I shoved a huge forkful of food into my mouth, my tears blurring my vision. I made a silent vow: I would protect Nana this time. I wouldn't let her work herself into an early grave.

Mabel brought Mom back later that evening, looking like she'd won the lottery. She told everyone she met that Cynthia was a saint for saving her brother.

But my mother looked like she was walking toward a firing squad. Her face was pale, and she looked sick to her stomach.

The moment she saw me, her eyes lit up with a desperate, predatory glint. "Ruby, maybe you should be the one to do it. The doctor said I'm a bit old for this."

I felt a cold laugh bubbling in my chest. Yesterday, she was preaching about how a kidney was a small price to pay for family. Now that it was her body on the line, she was terrified.

"Mom, if you don't want to do it, Mabel is right there. Why would it ever be my turn before the daughter's?" I said, pulling my hand away from her.

Cynthia loved Mabel like her own. She'd never dream of letting her precious niece go under the knife.

When Dad got home from the mill, Mom threw herself into his arms, sobbing like her heart was breaking.

"Hank! Ruby is being so selfish! Her uncle is dying, and she won't do a thing to help him!"

Dad looked at her, his expression tired and drained. He had reached his breaking point years ago. "If she doesn't want to, then you do it. Simple as that."

"But I'm old! What if I don't recover?" she shrieked.

Dad's face hardened. He had always felt guilty about their marriage, thinking he'd trapped her, but that guilt had finally run dry.

"So you know it's dangerous? You're worried about your own health, but you were perfectly fine with sending your teenage daughter into that operating room?"

Cynthia wiped her eyes, her voice turning sharp. "Ruby is my daughter, but Terrence is my brother! My own flesh and blood! If she doesn't do this, his blood is on her hands!"

We all stared at her, stunned by the sheer audacity of her logic.

"Mom, what the hell are you talking about?" I snapped. "If you're so scared, and Mabel is too 'fragile,' why am I the sacrificial lamb?"

Cynthia bit her lip. "Mabel is an orphan! She's already suffered enough losing her mother! How could you be so cruel?"

I'd heard this my whole life. Every time Mabel and I fought, Cynthia took her side because Mabel was "the poor motherless child."

"Mabel lost her mother, but you stepped in to be her mom, didn't you?" I yelled. "You gave her all the love that was supposed to be mine! I'm the one who grew up without a mother!"

Cynthia went silent, her mouth hanging open. She had no comeback for the truth.

Dad didn't say another word. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Silas.

"Silas, I'm retiring next month. The mill gave me the application for the legacy hire. Fill it out. You start in three weeks."

My mother's eyes widened, and I saw the gears turning in her head. She was already planning her next move.

That night, I stayed awake. I heard her bedroom door creak open, followed by silence, and then the sound of it closing again minutes later.

Once everything was quiet, I crept into the kitchen. I found the application in Dad's shirt pocket where she'd hidden it after swapping it. I switched the names back to Silas and put it back.

"Ruby, where's your mother?"

The next morning, my maternal grandmotherDa woman who only cared about her sonDshowed up at our door with a live chicken.

"She's in the backyard," I said shortly.

Cynthia came out, looking exhausted. When she saw her mother, she tried to force a smile. "Ma? What are you doing here so early?"

Grandmother looked at my mother with a rare, approving nod. "Cynthia, you're a good girl. Terrence is lucky to have a sister like you. Take this chicken. Stew it up and get your strength for the surgery."

My mother thrived on her mother's approval. It was the only drug she cared about. The fear in her eyes vanished, replaced by a pathetic sense of pride.

"It's nothing, Ma. I'm his sister. It's my duty. But maybe Terrence should have the chicken? He's the one who's sick."

Grandmother's smile widened. "See? This is why you were always my favorite. But you need to be strong for the operation. I'll bring Terrence another one tomorrow."

My mother looked like she was floating. She was finally getting the validation she'd craved her entire life.

I watched her, feeling a dark sense of satisfaction. In my past life, she used this same "family duty" to destroy me. Now, she was walking into the trap she'd built for me.

Don't worry, Mom. I'll take care of you exactly the way you took care of me.

Nana made a huge pot of chicken stew for dinner. I made sure to serve the plates myself.

I gave the two big drumsticks to Dad and Nana. I gave the wings to Silas and myself. Then, I piled my mother's bowl high with the neck, the feet, and the gizzards.

The rest of us ate until we were full, the savory smell filling the room.

Cynthia stared at her bowl of scraps, her face turning red. "Ruby! This chicken was meant for my recovery! Why did you give me all the garbage parts?"

"I thought you'd like them, Mom. They say eating organs is good for your own organs," I said with a sweet, fake smile. "Isn't that what you always told me?"

"I remember every Christmas, you'd give me the gristle and the bones while Mabel got the white meat."

I remembered those holidays vividly. My mother would roast a bird and give the best cuts to Terrence and Mabel. She'd keep the wings for herself.

Dad, Nana, and Silas would get the dry breast meat. When it got to me, my bowl was always filled with the tail and a pile of bones.

One year, I was so hungry I cried. Silas and Nana tried to give me their meat, but Cynthia snapped at them.

"She's young! She needs the calcium from the bones to grow tall! Stop spoiling her!" she'd said, whisking the good meat away to put on Mabel's plate.

She sat in the exact same chair she was sitting in now, completely indifferent to my hunger.

After dinner, Silas came into my room and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.

Before I could say anything, I felt something warm and wet on my shoulder. He was crying.

"I'm sorry, Ruby. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you better."

He was only a year older than me. He was just a kid himself, trying to survive our mother's madness.

"I don't blame you, Silas. I know you tried," I whispered, my own tears starting to fall.

Silas looked far older than seventeen. He should have been worrying about prom or football, not working himself to death in the dirt.

Years ago, when Silas was supposed to start middle school, Mom took his tuition money and gave it to Leo for his private school fees.

Dad found out too late. He smoked a pack of cigarettes in one night, then sold our only plow horse the next morning to get Silas the money back.

Silas had gone to school happy, only to be told by the principal that our mother had come by and withdrawn the funds an hour after he'd dropped them off.

She'd used the money to pay off Terrence's gambling debts. Dad almost hit her that night, but he just slumped over, defeated.

We had no more horses to sell. Silas picked up a shovel the next day and never looked back.

But this time, things were different. Silas was going to get that mill job. He was going to get out.

I woke up to the sound of a rooster crowing, feeling more rested than I had in years.

In my first life, I never slept well. My mother wouldn't let me. She viewed my paycheck as her personal fund for Terrence.

She used to show up at my workplace, screaming that her brother was disabled and that I was a heartless daughter for not handing over every cent.

I lost three good jobs because of her scenes. I ended up working 12-hour shifts in a factory just to stay hidden, but she always found me.

She'd wait at the gates on payday. If I tried to hide money for food, she'd find my room and trash it, looking for cash.

The last time it happened, she destroyed my apartment so badly the landlord sued me. I was fired, broke, and broken.

I had walked to the top of the highest building in the city and stepped off.

Looking at her now, fuming at the kitchen table, I felt a surge of triumph. We have a lot of debts to settle, Mother.

Cynthia was still trying to find a way out of the surgery. Grandmother's brainwashing was strong, but my mother's selfishness was stronger.

"I heard the local spa is looking for apprentices to do pedicures," Mom said suddenly, looking at Silas. "It's a good trade. You should apply."

I was eating my porridge, but I almost choked. Here we go.

"Why would I do that?" Silas asked, his brow furrowing. "I'm taking Dad's spot at the mill. It's a real career."

Cynthia smiled that sickly-sweet smile. "Well, Leo still doesn't have a job, and it's making your uncle's heart condition worse. I figured you're so hard-working, you'll find something else. I already told the mill to put Leo's name down."

Silas stood up so fast his chair flipped over. "You did what? Say that again!"

Cynthia shrunk back. "It's for the good of the family! If Leo has a job, we all breathe easier!"

"I'm going to the mill to talk to the manager right now," Silas growled.

Cynthia threw herself on the floor, grabbing his boots. "Silas! Please! Just do this for Mabel! She's an orphan!"

Silas looked down at her, his eyes full of a cold, dead disappointment. He agreed to walk away, just like last time.

In the past, he'd left town to work construction in another state. He would have been successful if he hadn't come back to take the fall for Leo.

But this time, I didn't tell them I'd already fixed the paperwork. Let her think she won for now.

"You should go to that spa tomorrow, Silas," Mom urged, standing up and brushing off her skirt. "Terrence's medical bills are going to be expensive."

Nana slammed her hand on the table. "If Terrence needs money, let his own kids earn it! Leave Silas alone!"

"How can you say that?" Cynthia cried. "Leo can't do manual labor, he's too delicate! And Mabel is just a child!"

"Mabel is sixteen! Silas was twelve when you pulled him out of school!" Nana screamed.

Cynthia didn't care. "Silas was loved! He had a mother! He can handle a little hardship!"

She truly believed that because Silas had a mother (even if she was a nightmare), he owed everything to his "unfortunate" cousins.

"Mom, stop worrying about Silas," I interrupted. "You should worry about your surgery. Who knows if you'll even wake up from the anesthesia?"

The color drained from her face. She stopped talking about the spa immediately.

I knew her secret. She played the martyr, but she was the biggest coward of all.

Two months passed. My high school placement exams were coming up.

In my previous life, my teacher, Mr. Thompson, told me I had a full-ride scholarship to the regional prep school because of my math scores.

It was my only way out of this town. But my mother found out.

10

I was a specialized student. I excelled in math but struggled with history. That scholarship was my only ticket.

I waited for the acceptance letter, but it never came. Instead, Mabel suddenly announced she was going to the prep school.

I was too weak from the surgery to investigate. I thought I just hadn't been good enough.

Years later, I ran into Mr. Thompson. He told me Mabel had never qualified.

I went home and confronted Cynthia. She confessed that she had gone to the school board and told them I was too ill to attend, and convinced them to transfer the "family" award to Mabel.

"Mabel's grades were bad, Ruby! She had no future! You're smart, you can find another way! A girl doesn't need that much education anyway," she'd said.

I had tried to choke her that day. I wanted her to pay for my stolen life.

When the police arrived, she'd knelt and begged me to forgive her, saying it was too late to change anything now.

The police were horrified. A mother stealing her child's future for a niece? It was unheard of.

They arrested her and Mabel, but it didn't matter. My life was already ruined.

11

This time, I went to Mr. Thompson early. I told him my mother might try to sabotage my placement and asked him to keep my original documents locked in the school safe.

When I got home, my room was a disaster. Cynthia had gone through everything.

"Ruby, honey, where is your Math Olympiad certificate? I want to see it," she said, her eyes shifty.

She wanted the physical certificate to prove Mabel's "identity"for the transfer.

"I sent it to the prep school admissions office," I lied.

"Why would you do that?" She looked panicked.

"They needed to verify the original seal. The deadline is tomorrow."

She realized she was out of time. She did the only thing she knew how to do. She hit the floor and started wailing.

The neighbors gathered outside, drawn by the noise. Our house was the neighborhood's favorite soap opera.

"Ruby! Please! Your sister Mabel has nothing! Give her this one chance!" she screamed for everyone to hear.

I opened the front door wide. "Everyone, look! My mother is trying to force me to give my scholarship to my cousin again!"

The crowd started whispering. They remembered the tuition money and the job.

"She gave her son's future to that lazy nephew, and now she's doing it to the girl," one neighbor hissed.

"Hank should have kicked that woman to the curb years ago," another added.

Cynthia scrambled to explain. "I'm just helping my brother! Terrence's kids are orphans! Ruby is my own daughter, she should understand!"

"If it's not a big deal, why are you stealing it?" I yelled, tears streaming down my face. "How much more do I have to give her?"

"She lost her mother!" Cynthia wailed.

"I didn't kill her mother! Why is that my problem?" I shouted back.

Cynthia looked shocked. She wasn't used to me being so "heartless."

The neighbors started throwing pebbles at her. They knew that in this town, education was the only way out. Stealing a child's scholarship was a sin.

She tried to run inside, but I blocked the door. She looked at me with pure venom. "Is this how you treat the woman who gave you life?"

I smiled through my tears. "My mother died the day I was born. You're just Mabel's aunt."